


first comes lust then comes baby

by leighbot



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Harry, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Zayn, Unplanned Pregnancy, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-03 20:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14576997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighbot/pseuds/leighbot
Summary: “Sounds like food aversion.”“I’m not adverse to food,” Zayn counters. He’s never had an issue before.“Maybe you’re pregnant,” Harry jokes.A full cramp seizes his stomach in its grip and Zayn pushes Harry away to dry heave into the bin once more.Or, they're pregnant but Zayn doesn't think that's enough of a reason to get married or mated.





	first comes lust then comes baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NerdAlert (alltimelisa)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltimelisa/gifts).



> These prompts seemed completely made for me and I thought for sure I was going to go with the second prompt, alltimelisa, but I had a nudge from the openness of your a/b/o prompt and went with it. I really hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thanks to J for telling me I wasn't out of my mind for going with this plot and to T for reading this at the beginning and helping me always.

**day one**

The early morning air is damp and Zayn’s toes are cold where they curl against the concrete of the balcony but he’s only got a few minute window to do this in so he doesn’t go back in for his shoes. His hand is shaking as he puts a cigarette between his lips, cupping one palm around the tip as he fumbles with the lighter in his other hand. He feels the flame lick at his finger before he successfully gets it lit but it doesn’t even bother him at this point. The first inhale warms him like a blanket, burning in a familiar way as the smoke slides down to his chest. He closes his eyes and takes another drag.

When he blinks them open again, the sky is already changing and his cigarette is half-gone. He ashes with one hand and scratches at his chest with the other. His nails catch on the collar of his tank and he briefly regrets not pulling on his jeans before he’d come outside. He’s not cold but he feels exposed, alone where he’s stood on a near-stranger’s balcony in the middle of August. There’s a buzz in his body that’s unrelated to the nicotine raising his blood pressure.

“You alright?”

Zayn turns on his heel, hiding the cigarette behind his back like a naughty child caught with their hand in a cookie jar. “Fine,” he says, feeling the ash hit his calf as he shivers from the cold.

“You don’t have to hide the smoking,” Harry says, a wry smile on his lips even in the early morning.

Zayn laughs and lets his hands relax at his sides. “I know you said something about yer asthma. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Harry comes out to join him, perching on the railing. “Plenty of air to diffuse it, s’long as you don’t blow it directly at me.”

Zayn takes a final drag and stubs it out on the brick. He’s pretending like it didn’t have another solid sixty seconds in it. “There goes my idea for foreplay,” he says in a monotone. He pushes himself up so his ass is balanced on the ledge, Harry’s arm automatically coming up to steady him. His warm fingers trail down Zayn’s back under his thin vest. The touch does nothing to help the buzz. Zayn turns his head, nosing at the scent gland behind Harry’s ear. “Do you want to take me back inside?” he asks, voice raspy from more than just the smoke.

Harry uses his arm still on Zayn’s spine to pull him off the rail and into his chest. He scents at Zayn in return. Zayn smiles and closes his eyes when he hears the purr deep in Harry’s chest.

“Do you want me right here?” Zayn modifies, thumbing at the elastic waistband of Harry’s joggers as he presses his forehead to Harry’s shoulder.

“Out here?” Harry asks against his ear.

“This the most exciting place you’ve shagged?”

“I’m a bit of a square,” Harry concedes, pushing his hands over Zayn’s waist and grabbing at his ass. Zayn can feel where he’s hard and he presses his hips forward to encourage Harry’s current train of thought. “Could consider changing that.”

Zayn grins and lifts his arms to encircle Harry’s neck just as Harry bends at the knee and uses his grip on Zayn’s bottom to lift him. Zayn keeps his core tight and his legs high around Harry’s waist as the omega in him submits easily to Harry’s alpha.

“You sure you’re not in your heat?” Harry growls in the scant space between them. “I can smell how wet you are again.”

“I’m on suppressants,” Zayn assures him, hiking his legs up higher and sighing when Harry pushes his back against a wall so he can relax his abs. Harry’s hands under his thighs take some of Zayn’s weight as well and he uses his newfound leverage to roll his body, his cock hard in his pants and his hole desperate for another chance to feel Harry pressing him open. “C’mon, please c’mon.”

Harry’s panting, sharp huffs as he exhales through his nose and immediately tries to inhale again. The alpha in him is desperate for every teasing hint of Zayn’s slick and Zayn takes one hand off from Harry’s shoulders to push his own underwear down. They get stuck before long, his legs spread wide around Harry’s hips, but he’s exposed enough that Harry trails the fingers of one hand up Zayn’s exposed cheek and presses three fingers against Zayn’s already sensitive rim.

“Are you cold?” Harry asks, his breath barely visible against the backdrop of the blue-gray dawn sky.

“I’m perfect,” Zayn assures him.

He laughs when Harry rips his boxers away, barely flinching when the fabric digs into his skin for a painful second before it gives and tears. Harry doesn’t bother undressing and Zayn doesn’t care. His vest has risen from his attempted gyrations and he pulls it up higher with his still loose hand before he pushes up the hem of Harry’s t-shirt just enough so their stomachs are bare and pressed together. The skin-on-skin contact soothes his omega.

Harry pulls his cock out over the waistband of his sweatpants, the fabric pushed down just far enough to press under his balls and keep them up high on display. Zayn’s mouth would water if he weren’t so desperate for Harry to fuck him.

“Wish you could knot me,” Zayn sighs at the first tease of Harry’s cockhead against his hole. “Fucking lock inside of me.” He’s talking nonsense, he knows. He’s not in heat and Harry’s not in rut, they’re not breeding or even mated. He won’t be getting Harry’s full knot tonight or ever, since Zayn’s not leaving his number or even his last name. He’s just out for fun, just for one night. Tomorrow he’s starting a new year and going back to his real life. Tonight he gets to do and be anything he wants.

Once he had seen Harry in the bar, with his short curls and his floral button-down, Zayn had wanted nothing and no one else.

“Turn around, turn around,” Harry urges, stopping before they’ve even really started and pulling away. He guides Zayn around with a firm grip before pressing him hard against the wall. Zayn’s fingers blindly find a brick that sticks out from the rest and he uses it as a focus point for his hands when Harry guides his cock back to Zayn’s messy hole. “God, everything inside of me wants to _ruin_ you.”

Harry’s breath is warm and wet against Zayn’s ear and he noses at the scent gland right against Zayn’s pulse point. The wind picks up Zayn’s moan when Harry slides inside, taking the sound away and flinging it into the sunrise. Harry’s thick, an alpha in his full prime, and Zayn’s body gives way with a hunger he feels not in his stomach but in his very core.

“You’re so hot,” Harry moans, falling into a rhythm with his hips.

Zayn snorts and rises up on his tiptoes to give him enough space to counter Harry’s thrusts and feel him hit deeper with each one. “Yer not so bad, either,” he replies, feeling his words coming out in fits and starts.

“No, inside,” Harry amends. “You’re burning up and catching me on fire.”

“It’s ‘cause of how much I want you,” Zayn says, scratching his nails against the rough brick. He’s riding a wave of pleasure so high he doesn’t think he’ll survive it when the wave breaks and crashes back onto the water’s surface. “You fuck me so good.”

“Gave it to you earlier and you still need it, huh?”

Zayn closes his eyes and tries to lift one of his legs, desperately wants to feel how deep Harry’s dick can get, and he scrapes his knee on the wall. The sting of it takes him by surprise and he pushes back on instinct, his spine curving along the tight bunch of Harry’s abs. It gets Harry deeper like Zayn had wanted but it takes him by surprise and he mewls, gritting his teeth and tilting his head back. He rests his head against Harry’s shoulder, their thrusts slowing down with the new angle.

“God dammit, yer perfect,” Harry whispers like it’s a secret between them. “You’re so perfect for me, baby. I could fuck you like this every day.”

Zayn feels like he can come just like this, from Harry’s thick cock splitting his arse open and from Harry’s slow words mumbled into Zayn’s ear. He’s cold, though, now that he isn’t pressed against the wall, and his nipples are pulled into tight little buds.

As if Harry knows, his one hand runs up from Zayn’s waist to pinch and rub gently at both of Zayn’s nipples through his thin vest in turn while his other circles Zayn’s hips and tugs once, twice at Zayn’s cock. The extra sensation is what pushes Zayn to his limit. He flies over the edge of the wave and crashes below the water, holding his breath for as long as it takes him to stop shuddering through the aftershocks. He’s surprised to feel how swollen the head of Harry’s dick is when he comes back down from his high. It’s not a full knot, it couldn’t be, but it’s larger even than it had been for their first round.

“Fucking outside agrees with you,” Zayn laughs, resting carefully against the brick with his eyes closed. His skin is losing heat all over and he presses back against Harry, trying to push him away.

“I’m kind of locked,” Harry says, his voice low and rough. “Think my body wanted to knot you so it tried its hardest.”

“Aww, a little baby knot.”

Harry groans, leaning his forehead against the back of Zayn’s neck, their sweat mixing between their skin. “Being told I have a baby knot isn’t emasculating at all.”

Zayn snorts, reaching a hand back to pat at Harry’s hip. The angle is awkward but he traces against where he knows the laurel tattoos show. “I’m sure your full knot is huge, babe,” Zayn promises. “Would probably rip me apart, tear me in two…”

“Shut up,” Harry laughs, slipping out. He’s still a bit swollen and the head catches on Zayn’s oversensitive rim. The tug of it kicks a last drop of slick out of Zayn’s cock and he sighs out a groan, the feeling one of _too soon, too much_. Harry is an addictive drug, Zayn can already tell. The buzz that had been just underneath his skin earlier is quiet now, the sated feeling soaking through his muscles with a weighted relief. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, his omega completely content, and he turns around. Harry’s hands don’t lift from his body but they stay in place so his fingers drag semi-circles until they’re pressed front-to-front again.

Harry leans into Zayn, kissing him sweetly. “I want to take care of you,” Harry confides. “You’ve got the alpha in me hooked.”

Zayn blinks and pushes Harry away with a gentle shove. “That’s not what this was supposed to be.”

Harry pouts, looking ridiculous with his joggers still bunched under his balls. Zayn reaches for Harry’s waist and fixes his waistband, ignoring the fact that he’s naked from the waist down, himself. His omega wants to soothe Harry, reassure him, but he’s not known to give in to his baser urges so he lets his hands drop after Harry’s covered up.

“The omega in you wants me, too.”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t know what’s best for himself.”

“Are you going to stay?”

“Not anymore,” Zayn says honestly. “I think it’s better if I go.”

“Can I have your number?” Harry asks, stepping close again and kissing Zayn’s cheek. He drags his lips across Zayn’s skin, pressing kisses along his stubble.

“No,” Zayn answers, though he doesn’t pull away.

“Can I give you mine?”

Zayn turns his head to align their mouths, parting his lips and letting Harry kiss him. Harry’s thorough, licking in deep and leaving the taste of him behind. Zayn takes as good as he gets, fisting his hands through Harry’s short hair and pulling the curls just enough to earn a choked-off ‘oh shit’ when he pulls away. “Thanks for tonight,” Zayn says, smiling sweetly and walking away. He finds his discarded jeans and pulls them on before Harry’s even walked back into the room. He’s still slick between his thighs and the way his zip grazes the head of his bare, sensitive cock makes him grimace.

“’ _Thanks for tonight’_?” Harry repeats. Zayn turns. Harry’s stood in the doorway to the balcony, looking as sated as Zayn feels. “That’s it?”

“And for this morning? That’s all I have for you,” Zayn agrees. “I’m not one to make promises I can’t keep.”

Harry doesn’t say anything else.

Zayn pulls his t-shirt over his head, running a hand through his hair to pat it down. He heads out of Harry’s bedroom and to the front door where he grabs his jacket and slides his feet into his shoes.

“Bye,” he says softly, knowing Harry’s followed him out from the room. He’s out the door before he hears if there’s an answer.

 

 

“How many coffees have you had?”

Zayn thinks about it for a long moment. “This is my fourth,” he finally decides.

“It’s not even eight in the morning!”

“You didn’t ask the time.”

Louis scoffs, sipping at his first- _and only_ \- takeaway cup of tea. “I’ve got a split fifth/sixth with Horan.”

“I’m teaching second next to Liam.”

“Is that why you’re downing so much caffeine? Trying to work up the nerve to deal with yer ex?”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “I think the term ‘ex’ is a bit of an exaggeration.” He doesn’t know why he isn’t telling Louis that he stayed out all night with the guy he met at the bar the night before. Harry had been an impulse,

“Just because you never slept with him doesn’t mean he isn’t an ex. And-“ he continues when Zayn makes to interrupt him- “just because I _have_ slept with him doesn’t mean he _is_ an ex.”

“Whatever you say,” Zayn mocks. He downs the rest of his cup with a single swallow and stands. The new pot was brewed by Elaine but Zayn doesn’t care. He pours about a pound of cream and sugar into the cup before topping it to the brim with coffee. He’s stirring the sludge together and about to take a sip when a familiar figure enters the room and Zayn almost spits out the bitter tasting brew.

Harry looks just as surprised to see him and Zayn barely registers Elaine pulling Harry to the front of the break room and chirping, “Let’s all take a second to welcome our new principal, Mr. Harry Styles.”

Fucking shit.

 

 

 

**four weeks - poppy seed**

“I really wish you’d talk to me.”

Zayn ignores him, walking around Harry to get to the coffee. He’s had an upset stomach all morning so he foregoes the cream and only adds a fraction of the sugar he’d normally like. The brew he fills to the brim, though, and he doesn’t even bother stirring it before he’s twisting the lid on his stainless steel reusable mug.

When he turns around and sees Harry stood still in the doorway, he doesn’t even pretend to be surprised. The coffee is hot on his tongue when he sips it distractedly and he makes to shuffle past Harry but his opening is suddenly blocked.

“I _am_ your boss,” Harry says in a low tone.

“Is this work related?” Zayn asks, eyes fixed to the collar of Harry’s shirt. It’s nice, lilac and stiff under his gray blazer. It’s nothing like the flowy Hawaiian shirt he’d been wearing the night they met and Zayn finds himself missing the garish pattern.

“No,” Harry sighs, stepping out of the doorway. “You’re not like most people.”

Zayn looks up. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

Harry laughs and shakes his head. “No, just an observation. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“Especially an omega?”

Instantly, Harry’s smile vanishes. “Don’t put words in my mouth,” he growls, his alpha voice deeper than his moans had been on the balcony a month earlier.

Zayn takes a step back and looks down, the omega in him submitting without question. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he allows. “But this is my job and I can’t have this conversation with you.”

Harry’s shoulders relax and he steps further away, heading over to the coffee counter just as Liam walks into the break room. “Hey, Zee.”

Zayn shifts his stance when he realizes he’s the one blocking the doorway now. Liam pats at his hip as he passes and Zayn can’t help but look towards Harry. He’s mortified when he realizes Harry’s seen the casual touch. He feels his flush reach his hairline when Harry walks away from the counter, sans coffee, and doesn’t offer Liam more than a firm nod before he’s leaving out the same door he’d come through just a short minute before.

 

 

 

**eight weeks - kidney bean**

“I’m here for my review.”

Harry looks up from his desk and stands quickly, nearly upending his chair in his haste. “I have Tomlinson next,” he says, bending at the waist and shuffling around his papers.

Zayn shakes his head and comes into the room with a smile. “Nah, Louis doesn’t do 7 am. Elaine switched us so you’ve got me.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Can I have a seat?” Zayn asks, hovering awkwardly a foot into the room.

“Oh, god, right.” Harry starts moving and Zayn doesn’t know if his omega is holding him still or if he’s just that confused because he doesn’t shift an inch until Harry’s next to him and pulling out the chair. “Erm, sit. Please,” he says, a flush coloring his cheeks as they both realize what has just happened.

“Thank you,” Zayn says, scooting the chair forward himself so Harry doesn’t feel the urge to tuck him in. “Erm, so, how do you want to begin?”

Harry’s sat back in his own chair with his lips tucked under his teeth, the skin white from the pressure as he slowly relaxes his mouth. His lips part on an exhale and Zayn tells himself he shouldn’t be watching so closely.

“I was going to ask Elaine to do your review,” Harry admits after a moment of quiet between them. “I had this whole thing planned where I was going to split a snack with Tomlinson and pretend it’d given me food poisoning or something and I was going to hide in the bathrooms for half an hour and come out right at the end.”

Zayn grins. “Why wouldn’t you just go sit in your car?”

Harry blinks. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He smiles back at Zayn, though the expression is small. “I guess I can do that for Payne’s meeting. I’ve got him on the schedule this afternoon.”

Zayn shifts in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable. It’s completely possible that Harry would avoid Liam for any number of reasons but Zayn can’t help but think it’s because of him. As an alpha, Liam should a bit more reserved with affection than he would be if he were beta or omega. Being taken under Louis’ wing, however, has made him quite tactile and he’s always palming at their hips or pulling them into hugs. As omegas, Zayn and Louis are used to the extra attention. Having it happen in front of Harry, though, the last- and only- alpha Zayn had been with, has been messing with his head ever since.

He doesn’t know how to approach the topic in a professional manner and so he sits, silent.

“Erm…”

“What were you going to eat?” Zayn asks suddenly.

“What?”

“You and Lou - what were you going to share with him?”

Looking surprised, Harry hesitates for a moment before opening his drawer and pulling out…

“Cookies?” Zayn asks. He knows the offense he feels is unfounded and dramatic but he would commit crimes for good cookies most days.

“My sister’s traveling and she sent me a packet of sweets from each city she’s been to so far. This is the first wave.”

All Zayn hears is that there’s going to be more cookies and soon. “Well, let’s have some.”

Harry tears open a package and pours them out onto a plate between them. They’re chocolate covered and Zayn hopes there’s something inside when he grabs one and bites into it.

“Ugh, no,” he says, grabbing a tissue from the box on Harry’s desk. He spits the cookie into the Kleenex and pulls a face when Harry laughs. “That was terrible,” he defends himself. “Tell Gemma not to go back to that country.”

“You remember my sister’s name?” Harry asks, eyes wide.

Zayn shifts in his chair. “You speak about her a lot, actually.”

“I do?”

“When Xander Greene got in late because his sister had hid his backpack, you didn’t write him up for it and took him aside to tell him about how Gemma hid your stuff the day before you left for college.”

“She was going to miss me,” Harry agrees, his smile genuine again. “I didn’t notice that I did that.”

“You’re good with these kids.”

Harry nods. “I’ve always enjoyed teaching. I take this job very seriously. It’s why I want to apologize…”

“It’s fine.”

“No, I’ve let my alpha control too many of my actions when it comes to you. And I owe you an apology. I’m sorry that I reacted to news of you and Liam so poorly. I hadn’t known you were seeing anyone when we… erm… well.”

“I’m not. I wasn’t,” Zayn rushes to deny. “I dated Liam, very briefly, last year. It wasn’t… we’re not like that.”

“In the coffee room…”

Zayn _knew_ that had bothered Harry. He just hadn’t known the extent of it. “Liam’s just like that,” he explains. “We’re friends.”

Harry doesn’t say anything for a second or two. He watches Zayn like he’s waiting for him to reveal he’s been crossing his fingers or something to take it back. Zayn stays still. “Let’s try another cookie, then,” Harry says, reaching for a new package. “These are some kind of gingersnap.”

Zayn’s stomach tightens but he pays it no mind, reaching for the treat Harry makes to hand over to him. He touches the end of it to his lips before he realizes his mouth is immediately salivating. “I need-” he gets out before he’s clapping a hand over his mouth and trying to stop himself from retching.

Thankfully, Harry’s quick on his feet. He pushes a small garbage bin in front of Zayn and rubs at his back between his shoulders as Zayn upchucks his breakfast omelette, a cup of coffee and the tiniest bite of the previous cookie he hadn’t been able to spit out.

“I don’t know what happened,” he says when he’s finally done retching, his head still hanging over the bin.

Harry leaves his side but he’s back before Zayn really notices. He presses a cool, damp cloth to the back of Zayn’s neck and helps him pick up his head. With nothing but curiosity on his face, he uses his other hand and another cloth to wipe at Zayn’s mouth.

“You don’t have to do this,” Zayn says, though his eyes are closed and the last thing he wants to do is push Harry away.

“I told you before: I want to take care of you. My alpha insists.”

Zayn takes the cloth from Harry’s hands but doesn’t pull away. He scrubs at his mouth a little harder and lets Harry pull him down to his shoulder.

“I should probably tie that up before the smell gets everywhere.”

Zayn grimaces but doesn’t move. “I don’t know what happened,” he repeats.

“Was it the gingersnap?”

Zayn’s stomach rolls. “Don’t say that again,” he warns. He pulls the cloth from the back of his neck and wipes at his forehead and the cheek not resting on Harry’s shoulder.

“Sounds like food aversion.”

“I’m not adverse to food,” Zayn counters. He’s never had an issue before.

“Maybe you’re pregnant,” Harry jokes.

A full cramp seizes his stomach in its grip and Zayn pushes Harry away to dry heave into the bin once more.

“Oh my god.”

 

 

**nine weeks - grape**

“I don’t know why you’re acting so nervous,” Zayn bitches quietly. “Seventeen home tests aren’t likely to be wrong.”

“Was it really that many?” Louis asks, eyes closed as he rests his head against the back of his chair. “I lost count.”

“You took four and I took thirteen,” Zayn affirms.

“What did mine say?”

“‘Not pregnant’ every time. Now shut the fuck up.”

The chair is uncomfortable on Zayn’s ass and he thinks for a wild moment how he’s just going to get bigger and bigger every time he comes to this office. The chairs should be wider to accommodate the clients.

“Mr. Malik? Your test results are ready.”

Zayn stands and registers Louis following suit. They walk together back into the doctor’s office, Louis grabbing at Zayn’s hand. The plush chairs they sit in are infinitely more comfortable than the last ones and Zayn tucks his foot under his bottom. He bites at his thumbnail as the doctor walks in with a clipboard and folder in his hand.

“Mr. Malik, Mr. Tomlinson.”

“Hi, Doc.”

“Zayn, please,” Zayn requests.

“Okay, Zayn. Do you want me to tell you alone?”

“Louis stays.” _I need him to stay_ , Zayn thinks but doesn’t say aloud. He needs his best friend to stay.

“You’re pregnant.”

“Yeah.. I figured.”

“There are options, of course. Do you have an initial reaction to the news?”

“I’m not bonded.”

“That should not affect your decision,” the doctor says, his tone firm. “Your ability to parent is not determined by your omega, your mated status or any other society-driven shame.”

“That’s what I said!” Louis chirps. Zayn glares at him. “Well, I did.”

“I know it doesn’t,” Zayn allows. “I just know it’s… different.”

“What about the other father?”

Louis scoffs. “Won’t tell me who it is.”

“It was just some random guy I met at a bar.” Zayn swallows; it’s not a lie but it feels so much like one. “I don’t know him.”

“Do you want to discuss termination? There are several options open to you at this early stage.”

“It’s okay, Zee,” Louis says, reaching over and grabbing Zayn’s hand. “Whatever you want to do.”

Zayn smiles. He hates Louis eighty percent of the time but he’s the best friend Zayn’s ever had. “Thank you,” he says, nodding. “I don’t want to terminate, though. What should my next steps be?”

The doctor nods and makes a note on his clipboard. “Okay, let’s discuss vitamins and good food choices. We’ll end with some appointments for the next visit.”

 

 

**eleven weeks - fig**

Zayn has never been more thankful for an hour break than he is right now. His students are in art class and he can rest his head on the desk and pretend the room isn’t swimming around him.

A knock on his door just makes it worse.

“Go away,” he says, hoping it’s someone from the half of the building he can say that to and not get into any trouble.

“I need to talk to you.”

It is and isn’t, all at once.

“Harry, please.”

“It’s been three weeks and you haven’t spoken to me once.”

“That’s not true.” It kind of is.

“I just want to know that everything’s okay.”

“It’s great.”

“Zayn, you have to talk to me if we’re going to be raising a baby-”

“Oh my god,” Zayn groans, lifting his head and peering at the principal of his school and, somehow, the father of his unborn child. What the fuck is his life? “We’re not doing this.”

“I know you don’t want to talk about this at work…” Harry says. Nevertheless, he walks into the room and shuts the door behind him.

“Harry… it’s nothing to do with work, although that’s also true.” Zayn sighs. “I mean: we’re not raising a baby.”

“Is he okay?”

 _He_? Sure. “The baby is fine.”

“Are you thinking of terminating?” Harry asks.

Zayn would commend him for his straight face and complete lack of emotion in his tone if it weren’t for the fact that a red cloud crosses over Harry’s eyes and Zayn knows that’s the last thing Harry would ever want to hear.

“No,” Zayn answers after a second. “I probably should consider it but I’m not.”

“Then I don’t…”

“ _I’m_ raising a baby. _We_ … aren’t.”

Every hint of wind is immediately gone from Harry’s sails. Zayn’s never seen a person deflate as if they’re a balloon. Harry backs up to the door, leaving it open after he slips outside.

 

 

**twelve weeks - lime**

There’s a banana on his desk. Zayn’s not entirely sure why it’s there or how it got there but he sets it to the side and takes his seat anyway. His class files in soon, the seven year olds all bouncing with excitement.

“What’s this all about?” he asks, smiling at their happy faces. Today is the first day in weeks that Zayn’s woken without any hint of morning sickness and he feels like he’s floating. He swears he can see and feel his bump already showing though Louis told him earlier that he’s delusional and still as skinny as ever. “What’s the news?”

“We found a turtle!” half of them chorus in almost creepy unison.

“You did?” Zayn asks, taken aback. “What did you do with it?”

“Jarold has him!” Maile says, running up to Zayn and tugging his hand. “He won’t come inside.”

“Okay, alright. I’m coming,” Zayn says, shrugging his jacket back on and following the group. Maile and Charley run ahead and lead the way to where Jarold is crouched down near the edge of the playground.

“Mr. Malik, I promise I didn’t touch him! Just like you always tell us.”

“That’s a good job,” Zayn assures him, taking a knee and examining the little guy. Zayn’s far from a turtle expert but he thinks he’s looking at a standard box turtle, about five inches from nose to the tip of his tiny tail where it peeks out the back of his shell. He doesn’t seem too perturbed by his audience, most of the kids keeping a fair distance back. He lifts his foot, probably with the intention of taking another step closer to the grass’ edge when the first bell rings.

“We need to get back to class,” Zayn says, though he’s reluctant. The turtle is cute and he’d rather stay out and watch him for an hour or twelve but he knows better. He stands. “Let’s put this guy near the brook and go learn some turtle facts.”

“Can I hold him?” Emmie asks. She’s the smallest of Zayn’s students, having skipped first grade. Zayn secretly thinks she’s a genius and she might be his favorite student if he was allowed to let himself have one. “I’ll be careful, please.”

“I’ve got him,” Zayn says, though he squeezes her shoulder gently. “Will you take the rest of the kids back to class? Ask Mr. Liam to watch you.”

“Okay,” she says, a frown on her face. Jarold comes up to her and holds her hand, the born alpha in him taking charge. He leads them back towards the school and Zayn watches until all of them are through the classroom door.

“Where’d you come from, little guy?” he wonders aloud, turning back to the turtle and scanning the area around them for a sign that he’s not alone. “I don’t really want to move you if you think you know where you’re going.”

“Are you talking to a turtle?”

“ _Fuc-_ dging christmas,” Zayn recovers, nearly losing his footing as he turns on his heel. “Make a _sound_ ,” he hisses when he finds Harry hovering a few feet away.

“Saw you out here, wanted to make sure you were alright,” Harry says, defensive. “It’s cold.”

Zayn sighs, his heart rate slowing. “I’m trying to decide if I should move him down by the brook or leave him to his business. It’s a couple hours before recess but I don’t know how far he’ll get on his own.”

“Worried he’s going to become Logan Harris’ science project?”

“I am now!”

Harry laughs and steps closer. “I can keep an eye on him for you. If he’s not in the clear before recess, I’ll get him to safety.”

Zayn flushes even as he takes a small step closer to Harry. Everything inside of him - from his omega to his baby - is pulling him towards Harry. “Thank you,” he says in a near whisper, staying too close for a moment too long. “I’m sorry for-” he motions to his stomach. “I had no idea this would happen.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Harry insists immediately. “I just want to do the right thing.”

“And what is that for you?” Zayn asks, holding still and taking a deep breath of Harry’s pheromones. “What’s the right thing?”

“Bonding.”

Zayn closes his eyes. He had hoped- foolishly- that Harry would have said something different. He takes the much delayed first step back and opens his eyes. “I don’t think pregnancy is the best reason to get bonded.”

“Neither do I,” Harry insists. “But I think being bonded is the best way to bring a baby into this world.”

“That’s… that doesn’t make sense.” Harry opens his mouth to respond but Zayn cuts him off. “I have to get back to my class. Sorry.” He jogs to his classroom door before slipping inside.

After the door latches, he peeks out through the half-window. Harry’s still standing near the turtle and Zayn finds himself smiling when he realizes that Harry’s mouth is moving.

 

 

**thirteen weeks - peapod**

Five days, five bananas.

The mystery didn’t take too long for Zayn to crack, all told. Harry’s not so subtle about popping in throughout the day to “check in on his favorite second graders” and scope out the trash bins for discarded banana peels. He once berated Zayn for a chocolate wrapper he found in the trash before he realized there was a class of twenty seven year olds watching their every move with rapt fascination.

They’d turned it into a skit, of sorts, about how sugar was bad for your health but Zayn doesn’t think they’d pulled it off.

“Just wanted to make sure you knew the banana was gone,” Zayn says, strolling into Harry’s office without knocking.

Harry looks up from his paperwork, an easy smile on his lips when he sees Zayn. “See? Isn’t it easier to eat properly?”

“I’m going to wash this down with some ice cream,” Zayn threatens, stepping closer to Harry’s chair and tossing the peel into his waste bin.

The- hopefully playful- outraged scowl on Harry’s face is somehow soothing to Zayn.

 

 

**sixteen weeks - avocado**

“Are you ever going to tell me who the father is?” Louis asks. He’s got his feet propped up on the exam table so they’re next to Zayn’s hip. “Is it Liam? Wait, is it _me_?”

Zayn rolls his eyes and pushes at Louis’ sneakers. He rubs, distractedly, at the smear of dirt left behind.

“I know you lied about not knowing who it is.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“Is it Niall? Are you having a wee Irish lad or lass?”

Zayn snorts. “No, it’s not your new boyfriend.”

“Oi!”

The doctor comes into the room just then, saving Zayn from further deflection. “Are we ready?”

“All my money is on a boy, Doc, so let’s see what we can do.”

“I’ll try my best, Louis,” the doctor says with a smile. “Let’s lie back and have a look.”

Louis stays by Zayn’s head, holding his hand and staring intently at the monitor while the doctor starts the sonogram. Zayn gets teary eyed, wishing that Louis could somehow have been the one he has a child with. Everything inside of him misses Harry, wishes he was there, but Louis is the only acceptable substitute right now. “You’re going to be a great dad,” Zayn says through clenched teeth as he tries to keep himself from crying. He’s just been so tired lately, all day every day, and it’s all been building.

Louis meets his eye. “Babe… _you_ are going to be amazing. And I’ll be here for all of it.”

“It’s a girl,” the doctor says quietly. “You’re having a girl, Zayn.”

The tears fall in full then and Zayn doesn’t even care. His dad is going to do cartwheels when he hears he’s going to get his first granddaughter.

 

 

“Mom?”

“In the kitchen!”

“It’s Thanksgiving, why did I think anything else?” Zayn asks, coming into his parent’s huge kitchen and falling right into his mom’s arms. “What’s that?”

“You’ve already got your eye on the food,” she says, a laugh just under her words. She lets him go and steps towards a container on the counter. “It’s your biryani, I make it every year.”

“I’m eating for two!” Zayn defends himself, patting at his stomach. “She likes biryani, too.”

“She?”

Zayn nods, smiling as his mom exclaims and pulls him back into her arms.

“Oh, a girl is so lovely!”

As if hearing his grandmother’s traitorous words, Doniya’s son comes racing into the kitchen just then. “Ma’oon!”

“Hi, love!” Zayn says, scooping his nephew up into his arms. “How’s Noor?”

“Good.”

“Naughty,” Doniya corrects as she follows him into the room. Zayn holds out his free hand for his big sister to slide in underneath. “He’s been coloring on mom’s floorboards.”

“Noor is just expressing his creativity!” Trisha calls out from where she’s taken up residence at the stove again.

“Well, the first time he does it at the new apartment, I’m whooping his little butt.”

Zayn laughs, kissing Doniya’s forehead before she pulls away. “When’s moving day?”

“Two weeks,” she says, excitement clear in her words. “I want everything set up and ready for our first Christmas in the new place.”

“I’ll bring the potatoes,” Zayn promises.

“Is your friend coming?”

“Louis?” Zayn asks, twisting at the waist with Noor in his arms, faux dancing in the middle of the kitchen. “He’ll probably be with his own family.”

“No, your um…”

“The alpha that got you in the family way, dear,” Trisha supplies helpfully.

“Oh.” Zayn sets Noor on his feet. Unbothered by the change in the atmosphere, he toddles away. “Um, probably not.”

“We’re going to have to meet your young man some day, Zayn.”

Zayn closes his eyes to settle his nerves. “He’s not my young man.”

“Well, whatever you guys are calling it,” she suggests, hitting the spoon against the pan. “I’m not sure what terms I should use.”

“We’re not together.”

He stands as tall as possible under his mother’s shocked gaze. When she opens her mouth, he expects her to yell but instead… “Yaser!”

“Mom!”

She doesn’t apologize. She moves to the doorway into the kitchen, meeting Zayn’s father as he comes into the room.

“Beta!” Yaser says with a grin, his smile fading quickly when he catches sight of his wife’s expression. “Oh, are we upset with him?”

“I just told mom that I’m not with the guy who got me pregnant,” Zayn explains, taking a seat at the island. He’s always liked these stools, with their plush cushions and extra bars for footrests. He’s suddenly tired and he doesn’t realize he’s rubbing at his stomach until his father’s eyes fall to his hand.

“Is that true?”

“It’s… complicated,” Zayn hedges. He doesn’t lie to his parents as a rule but he doesn’t want to tell them this truth.

“Is it because of him? Does he… not want to be a part of this?”

“No, dad. He’s a good guy.”

“Well, then?” Yaser walks over to him and takes the stool next to his. “What’s happening?”

“I just…” Zayn looks to his sister. She realizes what’s on his mind and rolls her eyes.

“Not every alpha is like Robbie,” she says. “They don’t all leave.”

“I’m sorry.”

Doniya is clearing offended but Zayn can almost see her brushing it off. “I’m going to find Noor,” she says before walking out of the room.

“I didn’t mean to upset Doni,” Zayn tells his parents. “I just saw how much she hurt when Robbie broke their bond. I’m not strong enough to go through that.”

His mom comes around to him and rubs her hands on his arms. “Sonshine, that’s not true.”

“It’s always hard, bringing a baby into the world. We don’t want to see you do it alone if you don’t have to.” Yaser pops open the container of biryani and passes it over to Zayn. He reaches in with his bare hands and pops a bite into his mouth.

“I know,” he assures his parents after he finishes chewing. “I just don’t think having a baby is a good enough reason to get bonded.”

“It shouldn’t be the only reason,” Yaser agrees. “But is there a reason for cutting this man off from his child?”

Zayn frowns. “I’m not… it’s different, for alphas.”

Trisha snorts. “No, it isn’t.”

“They can just leave whenever they want.”

“Some can,” his mom allows. “But so can some omegas. Being the carrier doesn’t make you unable to leave.”

Zayn picks another chunk out of the biryani and bites into it, letting the pumpkin taste soak his tongue. He loves his mom’s Thanksgiving spin on everything but he isn’t sure he’s ready to face her words.

“I just thought it would be easier this way.”

“Not having someone to help out and lean on?”

Zayn pouts. “Not having to explain to my daughter why her other father left us!”

“So how are you going to tell her he was never in her life to begin with?” his mom counters at the same time his father perks up and says, “Daughter?”

“Yeah, dad. I’m having a girl, your first poti.”

His father is wet around the eyes and Zayn slides off his stool to go and give him a hug.

“Just think about it, baby,” Trisha says, turning back to the stove to give her boys a moment together. “I don’t want you to make a rash decision.”

“I will, momma,” he promises, his head still buried in his father’s neck. “I promise.”

 

 

**seventeen weeks - turnip**

“We’re having a girl.”

Zayn hadn’t exactly planned on telling Harry right at this moment - halfway through his grocery trip with a cart full of a tie between healthy and junk food. He’s trying to decide which category ranch flavored rice cakes fall into when he looks over and sees Harry coming down the aisle. The words just come out.

To his credit, Harry doesn’t do anything dramatic like drop his basket or cry or something. He just stops walking and looks Zayn over from head to toe, as if searching for a sign that what he’s saying is true.

Zayn doesn’t even realize exactly what he’s said until Harry finally speaks. “We?”

“I was being unfair to you.”

Harry looks around and steps closer. “A girl?”

Zayn smiles, one hand rubbing at his stomach. “I went for a sonogram last Monday.”

“Did you have a good Thanksgiving?” Harry asks, his fingers twitching on his free hand as if he wants to reach out.

“Yeah, it was good,” Zayn agrees, taking the smallest step closer. “Saw my parents, told them she’s a she.”

“Yeah?”

“My dad cried about as much as I did.”

“Can I make you dinner?”

Zayn blinks at the turn in the conversation. “Okay.”

“Tonight?”

“Okay.”

 

 

Zayn shows up at Harry’s door later that night with a bottle of sparkling juice and a small box in his hands. Harry opens the door about a half second after Zayn knocks, ushering him inside and not-so-subtly brushing a hand across Zayn’s lower back.

“Thanks so much for coming.”

Zayn snorts and toes off his shoes. “Thanks for making me dinner,” he returns. “I got you something.”

Harry grins and takes the gifts off of Zayn’s hands. “Awesome! Let’s go sit down.”

Zayn follows him into the kitchen, hopping up onto a stool and taking the bottled water Harry offers him. “Open your present!” he demands.

Harry smiles indulgently and pulls at the edge of the ribbon tying his present box closed. “What is it?” he asks, placing the top carefully on the island counter and shifting the tissue. “A t-shirt! What does it say?” he narrates to himself.

Zayn had seen it in a mall window a few weeks ago and kept thinking it would be perfect for Harry. He’d made it a point to head back there today, wanting to apologize to Harry somehow for pushing him away with no explanation.

“‘Ask me about my dad jokes’, oh god,” Harry laughs, holding it up to his chest. “Can I put it on now?”

Zayn smiles. “If you want.”

Harry folds it carefully and sets it to the side, shaking his head. “I’ll save it for a bit. Thank you, Zayn.”

“You’re welcome. I want to… start over, in any way that’s possible.”

“I’ve got something for you, too,” Harry says, stepping away from the island counter and pulling open a drawer near the sink.

“Yeah?” Zayn perks up at that. He loves presents. When he sees what Harry’s holding, though, his smile fades. “Harry-” he starts.

“Just, I thought you’d changed your mind.”

“Why did you think that?” Zayn asks, staring at the velvet box in Harry’s hand.

Harry falters, stepping back and closing his fist around the box. “You came up to me.”

“Because I tried to extend an olive branch doesn’t mean you fucking _propose_ , Harry. God, you do nothing by halves, do you?”

“I don’t know another way to be,” Harry agrees, his eyes wide. Zayn thinks Harry’s trying to read him, read the situation. Zayn doesn’t know what to do.

“I’ve got to go,” he says, heading out of the kitchen and back to the front door. He can hear Harry following him but he’s still surprised when a hand wraps around his elbow and tugs him to a stop. “Let go of me,” he says, even as Harry’s fingers surrender their grip.

“Why won’t you just consider it?”

Zayn turns, one hand on his hip. “I don’t know why _you_ won’t consider anything else.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, I’m not,” Zayn says honestly. “But I’m not going to marry you, either.”

“I’ve never…” Harry starts to speak but then pauses to take a deep breath. “I’m kind of flighty; I’ve never had a serious relationship, at least not according to my mum, and I’m not known for staying too long in one place.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because… ever since I met you, I’ve thought of no one and almost nothing else. I told you that first night: my alpha is hooked.”

“I want more than just your alpha, though!” Zayn counters. “I don’t want just a mindless alpha male. I don’t need that in my life, I’m fine and so is my omega. I’m looking for a partner, not someone to take over my life.”

“I’m not saying… that’s not what I’m trying to say,” Harry argues back. He’s obviously getting frustrated but he’s actually handling it well. Zayn doesn’t feel any urge to submit, and he knows Harry could probably make him. “I don’t only think with my alpha brain,” Harry continues. “He’s me, I’m him, we’re not separate but he isn’t the total sum of me. You’ve got him hooked with your omega and you’ve got me hooked with your whole being.”

“You don’t know my whole being,” Zayn says, smiling and relaxing. He leans against the half-wall near Harry’s front door.

“I’d like to, though. Even without a pregnancy, I’d want to know you. Knowing that you _are_ pregnant, though, knowing that you’re carrying my _daughter_ … I want to do everything I can to help you and support you.”

“So you immediately think of marriage?”

“It’s usually what’s done.”

“What about me is ‘usual’?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Harry allows, a bright grin on his face.

Zayn adjusts his stance. “I realize now how terrible it was of me to try and cut you out of this experience. My mom chewed me out over the holiday.”

“It’s been terrible,” Harry agrees. “I just want to help you and help my daughter.”

“What did you make for dinner?” Zayn asks.

The subject change catches Harry off-guard, Zayn can tell. He recovers quickly enough. “My dad’s mac and cheese recipe.”

“I like mac and cheese,” Zayn says, pushing off from the wall and walking back towards the kitchen. “Are you coming?” he asks when Harry doesn’t move.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” Harry says as Zayn finally hears him start moving.

 

 

**twenty weeks - banana**

“D’you know your kid is the size of a banana right now?”

Zayn stops halfway through his lunchtime fruit. “Don’t tell me I’m currently eating my baby.”

Louis snorts and pushes at his shoulder. “I’ve just been reading this baby book and it’s got approximates for all of the weeks of your pregnancy. Twenty weeks is a banana.”

“A big banana or a little one?” Zayn asks, tossing his last couple bites into the garbage.

“I guess a medium one, I don’t know.”

“Did you… you’re reading baby books?”

Louis shrugs but Zayn can see the pink in his cheeks even as he tries to hide his face. “I’m gonna be there for you.”

“Babe,” Zayn says, wrapping an arm around Louis’ back and giving him a tight squeeze. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“It’s only ‘cause you’ll mess her up on your own.”

Zayn laughs, pressing a kiss to Louis’ temple. “I’m not going to be on my own,” he confides, dropping his voice.

“Yeah?” Louis asks, voice dry. “Did your mysterious alpha come crawling back to you?”

“It’s complicated and I’m sorry I haven’t told you the truth before.”

Louis practically snaps his neck turning to look at Zayn. “It _is_ Liam! Does he know?”

“It’s not Liam, you prick.”

“Well who is it?”

Zayn takes a deep breath.

 

 

**twenty-one weeks - carrot**

“Are you out of your ever-loving mind?”

Zayn startles, pulling away from the hand on his arm in instinct. He’s covered in sweat and other people’s scents, his bones are tired from what must have been an hour straight of dancing, and his mind feels electrified with abandon. The hand still on his arm- holding him, even moving him now- is like a punch in the gut to all his sensations.

“Leave me alone, Harry!”

“You shouldn’t be here!”

“Why, because I’m pregnant? I can’t have fun because I’m knocked up?”

“Always putting words in my fucking mouth,” Harry growls. His tone makes the hairs on the back of Zayn’s neck stand but he doesn’t feel the need to submit. Not yet. “You’re surrounded by strangers, half of them ruthless alphas who’ll take an unmated pregnant omega out of this place and not give a damn about your comfort or your consent. All they want is the high they’ll get from mating what they see as someone else’s omega.”

“Are you speaking for all alphas, then?” Zayn challenges, finally yanking his arm free once they’ve hit the sidewalk outside of the club. “Maybe I should stay away from you, too.”

“You’re already carrying my baby,” Harry says with a sigh. “You’re not someone I need to conquer.”

“You’ve already had me so I’m useless to you.”

“Oh my god, will you never tire of being this much of a prick?”

Zayn scoffs, turning away from Harry. “I don’t understand why you get to go out and party but I have to stay home and knit like a granny.”

“Louis told me where you had gone so I came to find you.”

 _Louis and his big fat mouth_ , Zayn thinks to himself.

“Why are you here? You know how dangerous this place could be for you. Why was it worth the risk?”

“None of your business.”

“Zayn, c’mon. What’s up?”

“Ugh!” Zayn starts walking, not entirely sure where he’s headed. He knows Harry’s following him and he gets an idea, turning at the next street and heading for Harry’s apartment.

“Zayn?”

“If you won’t help me, just tell me and I’ll go home.”

“Help you with what?” Harry asks, his footsteps falling quicker until he’s at Zayn’s side.

“I want to have sex.”

Harry coughs, apparently caught off guard. “You _what_?”

“I’m sorry, did that offend you? You were literally just telling me I was going to be raped just for being an omega but my sex drive offends you?”

“Not… raped,” Harry tries to clear his throat. “Just mated unwillingly.”

“Same thing to me.”

“I know.”

“So, are you going to help me or not?”

“With what, exactly?”

Zayn stops walking and turns on his heel. He’s face-to-face with Harry and he lifts his hand to poke his finger to Harry’s chest. “You put this baby in me and she’s sending my hormones sky high. My hand isn’t doing it and my toys aren’t as fun as they used to be.”

Harry’s cheeks are burgundy and his eyes have never been so dark. “I’ll help,” he says, licking his lips and leaning in closer to Zayn. “I’ll be really great at helping.”

Zayn lets Harry get close enough to catch his scent before he steps away and resumes walking. He’s not waiting a second longer than he has to.

 

**twenty-four weeks - corn on the cob**

Zayn leans against his desk, his second graders all at their seats and staring up at him. He’d caught their full attention once he’d told them he had a “secret” to share. Harry stands by the door to Zayn’s classroom, arms folded and his front teeth biting down on his smile. Zayn rolls his eyes in Harry’s direction and turns back to his class.

“Many of you have noticed that my belly is a little rounder than it usually is.” All of the students nod and Zayn tells himself he shouldn’t take offense to it. “Well, it’s going to get quite a big bigger in the next few months and I wanted to tell you why. How many of you have younger brothers and sisters?”

About half of the class raise their hands.

“Do you remember when your mommies and daddies were carrying your little siblings and their tummies got bigger and rounder?” They nod. “Well, my stomach is getting bigger and rounder for the same reason: I’m going to have a baby.”

His class reacts with gasps and claps, the purest burst of energy Zayn’s ever felt in one place.

“Do you have questions for me?”

The entire class raises their hands this time. Zayn looks to where Harry is still standing, an extra puff to his chest and a prouder smile on his face this time. “Thank you for coming,” Zayn mouths before he debates which question he should take first.

“Always,” Harry mouths in return.

 

 

**twenty-seven weeks - cauliflower**

Zayn buries his face in his pillow, biting at the cotton seam as Harry pushes inside. Zayn’s convinced he’s never going to get used to how good it feels.

“Up, up,” Harry encourages, using his grip on Zayn’s hips to pull him up from the pillow. Harry leans back so Zayn can rest his weight against his chest.

“Not the best angle,” Zayn says as he closes his eyes and lets Harry set the rhythm. He brings his arms up and wraps them behind Harry’s back, pinching and pulling at the soft skin there. “Feels great,” he amends once he realizes how Harry’s scent wraps him in a cloud and makes every thrust hit so much deeper than physical- Zayn feels Harry in his chest.

He turns his head, nose brushing Harry’s scent gland. It feels like an overdose.

Harry’s hands never stray far from Zayn’s stomach, always curving just under his belly or bracketing it with his hands on Zayn’s hips.

“You’re so single-minded,” Zayn laughs, moaning when Harry lets one hand circle the tip of Zayn’s cock.

“Wanting to give you a good time isn’t a bad thing.”

“You like the fact that I’m having your baby,” Zayn corrects, his own hands adandoning Harry’s back to rub at his swollen nipples. “Wouldn’t be this up for it otherwise.”

“I took you home that first night… think I was plenty up for it then.”

Zayn laughs and nods. “I… yeah,” he says.

Harry smacks Zayn on the hip as he grinds his hips, slowing them down. “You’re such a prick.”

“Mmm, I love dirty talk,” Zayn jokes.

“I can do that,” Harry assures, turning his head so his lips press to the shell of Zayn’s ear. “I could dirty talk your socks off.”

“You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me for that!”

“You wear socks during sex, it’s weird!”

Zayn cackles out a laugh.

 

 

**twenty-eight weeks - eggplant**

“Did you seriously make eggplant parmesan?” Harry asks, a smile in his voice.

Zayn laughs, cutting into his slice and taking a big bite before anyone can answer.

“We’re still not talkin’ to you,” Louis spits out, making a plate for Niall and getting a kiss for his efforts.

“Aw, come on Tommo. We should be friends.”

“We should be but you ruined your chance for that.”

“I thought you invited me as a peace offering.”

“Harry invited you,” Louis retorts, picking up his own slice and eating it like a pizza.

“You’re a barbarian,” Niall laughs. “Use your silverware.”

“Make me,” Louis challenges.

“Yer gonna burn your fingers.”

“Aren’t we here for me?” Zayn asks, nearly done with his eggplant already. Niall is a wizard in the kitchen, honestly. “The text said this was meant to be a ‘happy third trimester’ party.”

“We’re here for you,” Niall assures him, patting at his hand. “Want some more?”

“Yes please!”

“I really wish we could be friends,” Harry says to Louis. Zayn knows he isn’t really supposed to hear the pleading tone in his voice but the kitchen is too small for secrets. “You’re Zayn’s best friend; you’re like… the third most important person that’s going to be in my daughter’s life.”

“Second most important.”

Harry, bless him, stands his ground. “Sorry, the best you get is third unless something happens to me.” Louis glares at him. “And I don’t die easily,” Harry warns.

“Please, Lou,” Zayn says, meeting Louis’ eye from across the table. Louis opens his mouth to argue but Zayn turns on the big puppy dog eyes and makes sure his bottom lip practically covers his top in his pout.

“Oh, fer God’s sake put that pout away,” Niall cries out, shoving back from the table with a laugh. “Lou’ll make nice with your boyfriend, don’t worry.”

“We’re not boyfriends,” he and Harry say in unison.

“Yeah, Ni. They’re not boyfriends. Just fuck buddies,” Louis mocks.

“Louis-” Zayn warns.

“Because this isn’t a disaster waiting to happen or anything… they’re clearly going to be able to co-parent their daughter fairly and aren’t going to let their emotions get in the way,” Louis continues, addressing Niall and ignoring Zayn as he stands from the table.

“Lou, shut up.”

Having finally gotten Louis’ attention, Zayn lets his napkin drop to his plate as he steps back and kicks in his chair. “I’m not looking to have this fight with you again.” Louis has a wounded look on his face, his blue eyes wide in the yellow light from the ceiling fan. “I thought this was going to be a fun dinner and I asked Harry here because I want the most important people in my daughter’s life to get along but you guys can’t be around each other five minutes before you’re having a pissing contest for no reason.”

Harry opens his mouth, probably to object to his inclusion in Zayn’s rant but Zayn doesn’t want to deal with that either. He raises a hand and turns around to leave.

When he hears footsteps behind him, he assumes it’s one of the two he’s just yelled at but he’s surprised to see Niall when he looks around. “I’ll drive ya home, yeah?” Niall offers, shrugging on his jacket. “Give them two a moment to calm down and maybe talk.”

“Thank you.”

The February sky is heavy with snow clouds and Zayn accepts Niall’s hand as they step down the steps to the Brownstone. They slip into Niall’s car in silence, letting it warm up with the heat on full blast before Niall turns the knob to lower the intensity and the sound arounds them dims.

“Do you think what we’re doing is stupid?” Zayn asks when they’re halfway to his apartment.

“Not my place to say.”

“I’m asking as a friend.”

Niall’s silent for a few turns. “I think you and Harry fit really well together and, had you not gotten pregnant, I could see the two of you dating seriously.”

“Okay,” Zayn encourages when it seems like Niall’s done. He shifts in his seat, his hand coming up to put pressure on his belly when he feels a cramping sensation. They’re common now, especially when he’s in a car for some reason, and he doesn’t pay it much mind.

“If you’re looking to not be together, I think you shouldn’t be together at all. If you’re open to trying a real relationship, I think being fuck buddies is a bit risky.”

“So you think we’re wrong, too.”

“You asked my opinion,” Niall reminds gently.

“I know. Oh!” Zayn grunts in pain as the cramping sensation intensifies. He feels like his entire abdomen is curling inward. “Fucking ow!”

“Zayn?”

“Niall, something’s wrong. Can you take me to the hospital?”

“Already on it,” Niall confirms, turning a block before Zayn’s building and merging onto the highway. “We’re five minutes out.”

“Can you call- _fuck, ow!_ ” Zayn can feel tears already building. His cramping pain is only outweighed by the pure panic that seizes him. It’s too early.

“Call Louis!” Niall barks into his handsfree device.

“Harry!” Zayn sighs, gritting his teeth against the pain. “I want Harry.”

 

 

“I don’t understand - what causes these… Braxton Hicks contractions?”

Harry’s skin is pale and his eyes have dark bags underneath. He’s looking up to the doctor with a wide, pleading gaze, desperate to understand.

“It’s not an exact science,” the doctor allows and Zayn watches as Harry’s heart visibly breaks. He holds out a hand, thankful when Harry picks up it between his own immediately. “If you’re dehydrated, have a full bladder or if you’ve just finished having sex, the contractions can be more common. You’ve been experiencing them for weeks now, most likely, but these if any of these conditions were met, that can increase their severity.”

“What about stress?” Zayn asks, his throat sore from his scared crying in the car with Niall.

“Stress makes everything worse,” the doctor agrees.

“Thank you, doctor,” Harry says. He helps Zayn up from the table and tugs his shirt down over his tummy as the doctor leaves the room.

“Sorry-” Zayn starts to say but Harry takes his face in his hands and presses a kiss to his lips.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says quickly once they part. “When Niall called Louis, we were both so worried.” He smooths his palms against Zayn’s cheeks before he scratches at his stubble with the tips of his fingers.

Zayn tugs Harry in for another kiss.

“We need to stop this,” Harry says when they pull apart. “It kills me to admit but: Louis is right.”

Zayn’s brow furrows as he looks up to meet Harry’s eye. “What?”

“I keep expecting some romcom ending to happen but all that’s going to happen is we’re going to have a baby and we’re not going to be a couple. I need to come to terms with that.”

“Harry-” Zayn tries to protest but Harry shakes his head again.

“I’ll take you home, c’mon.”

Knowing he’s been overruled, Zayn zips up his jacket and follows Harry out of the exam room.

 

 

**thirty-three weeks - pineapple**

“Continuing the theme of having you mock-eat your baby, look what I got Niall to make us for today.”

Zayn laughs when Louis opens a Tupperware of pineapple upside down cake.

“This has got to be the strangest pregnancy tradition anyone has ever had,” Zayn comments, though he grabs a fork eagerly and digs in. “Tell Niall my compliments, as always. Where is he today?”

“Field trip. He lost the coin toss so he had to go with the parents.”

“So you get to just bum around all day?”

“Nah, I’ve been helping Harry with the sixth grade graduation ceremony.” Zayn tries to school his expression but Louis sees right through him as always. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” Zayn says, sitting up straighter. “He’s always going to be in my life so I’m glad you two are getting along.”

“I think he misses you.”

“We talk almost every day.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.”

 

 

**thirty-nine weeks - watermelon**

“I’ve officially changed my mind. I could eat watermelon all day, every day. I don’t care if this is a stand-in for my baby. Bring me more babies.”

Louis laughs around his bite and nearly chokes. “You’re so stupid.”

“I know.”

Louis gives Zayn a long look and Zayn watches as his head tilts to the side. “You okay, babe?” Louis asks.

“I’m fine.”

“Any contractions?”

Zayn laughs, biting into another slice of melon. “I’ve been having those fake contractions for ages, it seems.”

“Are you having any different ones? Stronger, longer, more regular?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Zayn says. He’s kind of annoyed by Louis’ questions. It’s his first Saturday off in months and the weather is finally nice. He was meant to be enjoying a picnic with his best friend but Louis is ruining it. “Just shh.”

 

 

“Louis!”

“One second!” Louis calls out from the next room over.

Zayn shakes his leg, hissing with the pain that causes. “Now please!”

“What- oh,” Louis says as he swings around the corner and sees the pain on Zayn’s face as he slowly sinks to his knees. Being small is the only thing he can think of right now, as if he’ll calm the contractions if he can wrap himself around his baby. “You said you weren’t having contractions!”

“ _Is that really important right now_?” Zayn asks into the floor.

“Can I take you or do you want me to call an ambulance?”

“I’ll be okay, just give me a second.” Zayn tries to slow his breathing. He sees Louis’ shoes when he comes up to Zayn and kneels next to him. Louis’ hand on his lower back is soothing and Zayn exhales deeply. “Can you call Harry before we go?”

“Already on it,” Louis says and Zayn listens to the one-sided conversation for a second before he turns his attention inward and pretends he can hear his own heartbeat to help him calm down.

“I’m so ready to meet you but you have to stay in there a little bit longer, please,” Zayn tells his daughter. “Can you give me thirty minutes at least? Maybe forty-five?”

 

 

She gives him forty-three.

“That was so intense,” Louis says, coming into the room once visitors are allowed. Harry is breathing hard in an armchair near the bed and Zayn watches with rapt fascination as Louis glares at him. “The fuck are you out of breath for?”

Harry laughs and opens his eyes, lifting his head to look at Louis. “I’ve got asthma,” he says.

“Yeah, and?”

“Be nice,” Zayn says from his post-op bed. “Come cuddle me until my baby is brought back.”

Louis listens for once in his life, climbing onto Zayn’s bed with caution and wrapping his arms around Zayn’s shoulders. “Congrats, love.”

“Thank you,” Zayn whispers. He feels oddly invigorated and only a little loopy from the pain medicine in his drip. His incision site feels itchy but in a way that’s miles below the skin. Once the feeling starts coming back, he thinks it’s going to be brutal.

“When is she coming back?” Harry asks.

“Soon,” one of the nurses still idling around tells them. She checks Zayn’s monitors and makes a note on the clipboard at the foot of his bed before dropping it back into its bin. “I’ll go check but it shouldn’t be more than a few more minutes.”

“She’s right here,” another nurse says as he comes in, a blanket-wrapped bundle in the small bassinet he’s pushing before him. “She passed all her tests with flying colors.”

“Of course she did,” Harry says as he stands and picks her up carefully. Without being asked, he brings her over to Zayn’s side and perches on the open side of his bed. “She’s so perfect.”

Zayn shifts in his seat, using his arms to move his still-numb lower half so he can curl closer to Harry’s side. He’s kind of in love with the sight of his daughter in Harry’s thick, tattooed arms. Zayn lets his hand rest on Harry’s forearm and brushes at her tiny, closed fist with his index finger.

“I’m so proud of you,” Harry says.

Zayn thinks he’s talking to their daughter until he looks up and meets Harry’s eye. “Thank you,” he says. Harry leans in, eyes focused around Zayn’s mouth and Zayn tilts his head back to meet him in a kiss. “I’m indebted to you forever.”

“Same.”

“If you two are going to make out, I can take this little angel off your hands.”

Zayn laughs and turns to look at Louis. He pats at his friend’s leg. “I’ll make out with you in a minute, too. Just give me the time to get over there.”

Louis rolls his eyes and shoves into Zayn’s space more, hovering carefully over Zayn’s middle and peering with interest at Zayn’s daughter. “She’s the tiniest little thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You have little siblings.”

“She’s tinier than anyone.”

“You can hold her next,” Zayn says.

“You’re skipping a turn?” Louis asks, his blue eyes boring a hole in the center of Zayn’s face.

“I carried her for nine months, I can have a break,” Zayn defends himself.

Louis takes the baby from Harry and stands carefully from the bed. “I’ll let you figure that out,” he tells Harry, pointing carefully at Zayn. “He should be clawing her from my hands right now.”

Harry snorts and waits until Louis is near the window before he starts talking. He doesn’t take his eyes off his daughter. “You okay, babe?”

“I’m fine,” Zayn says, tucking his chin to his sternum as he watches Louis, too.

“Why don’t you want to hold her?” Harry asks. “And don’t lie,” he adds.

“I held her earlier,” Zayn protests.

“Eh, I basically pressed her into your chest and took on the weight myself.”

Zayn sighs and rubs at his face. “My whole body has been used to keep her safe this whole time. I’m just nervous my arms won’t be enough.”

Harry presses a kiss to Zayn’s forehead before trailing his mouth to Zayn’s cheek and finally landing one to his lips. “You’re used to having little babies around, how many cousins do you have? You have a full camera roll of you and Noor on your phone.”

“This time it’s my baby.”

“I know.”

Zayn smiles, turning fully away from Louis and pulling Harry into a better kiss. “Six months,” he says.

“What?”

“We’re going to co-parent for six months and then I’m going to take you to dinner. On a date. And we’re going to have that romcom ending. Even if it’s a little out of order.”

Harry grins. “Okay, yeah. I’m good with that.”

“Louis Tomlinson, bring me my baby!”

Louis laughs and returns almost before Zayn can hold out his hands. “Here she is. I’ve already turned her against you, Harry, sorry. Some grudges die hard.”

“Yippie Ki Yay,” Harry says in a perfect impression of John McClane.

Zayn laughs as he takes his daughter into his arms and presses a row of kisses along her perfectly pink cheeks. “Hi, my love,” he says quietly. “I’m so happy to meet you.”

 

 

**five months - bowling ball**

“Amata ata bobata, bonana fanna fo fata, fee fi momata, Amata!”

“How is she ever going to learn her name if you keep singing that ridiculous song to her?”

“She’s a genius and she already knows her name. Isn’t that right, Amata? Amata? _Amaaataaa_?”

Amata blows a spit bubble and claps. Zayn grins and hands her a yellow block, throwing the red one at Harry when he says, “See? She knows her name.”

“Yeah, that’s the universally recognized reaction to someone calling your name,” Zayn says. Amata bites at a corner of the block, spit dribbling down her hands. She’s the most beautiful little girl Zayn has ever seen.

“So, next week is Amata’s six month marker.”

“I know,” Zayn says, looking over to Harry. He’s kneeling on the ground while Zayn’s on his bottom so the slight height difference that’s between them normally is now exaggerated. Zayn smiles. “Are you thinking about where you’d like to go for dinner?”

Harry laughs and hands Amata the second block, saying as he passes it over, “Red block. This one is the red block,” because he read in a baby book that it would help her associate colors and objects. Zayn thinks it’s a little much to ask a five month old to learn both at the same time but Harry is convinced she’s a baby genius.

“Anywhere you’d like,” Zayn says.

“How about a nice dinner here?”

Zayn looks around his flat. “Are you sure? It’s probably not going to be much cleaner than this now.”

Harry laughs. “Have you seen my place? It’s twice as bad.”

Zayn smiles and nods. “Okay, I’ll make you dinner here. Maybe I’ll guilt Louis into helping me clean.”

“Ask Niall,” Harry advises. “He’s like Mr. Clean in human form.”

Zayn laughs in agreement and picks up Amata, placing her on her belly in the middle of her blanket. In a blink, she turns over onto her back.

“Harry! Did you-”

“Did she just-”

“Oh my god!”

“Amata: Baby Genius!” Harry proclaims, picking her up and blowing a wet raspberry against her cheek. “That was so good, such a good girl!”

Amata gets fussy, smacking Harry in the face and pulling a funny expression. Harry looks over to Zayn. “Should I try again?”

“You’d better put her down or she’s going to go full on sass on you,” Zayn agrees. “She’s cuddly on her terms.”

“Being pushed away by your daughter shouldn’t start so early.”

“Right?” Zayn laughs, watching as Harry puts her back down on her belly. She turns her head and looks at him with the clearest _what the fuck_ face any five month old could ever make and Zayn’s stomach is beginning to hurt from the laughter. She stays belly-down for a minute before she spits and huffs, rocking side to side and turning to her back again.

They both clap and cheer, their good moods rubbing off on their daughter and she smacks her chubby hands together, mimicking her fathers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you! [Come say hi](http://iamleighbot.tumblr.com/)!


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